Print

I would describe myself as the landscape I buried My mother's face, as she carried me, how her water raged and emptied. Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given. It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in. I would describe myself as the colourfield I married my New York pages, how they prepared my sheets and the dirges caged and cared for me. Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given. It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in. "whenever auntie moves around her dress makes a curious sound they trail behindher up the floor and trundle after through the door." (auntie's skirts-R.L.Stevenson) Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given. It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in. Dry your eyes, those tears are all you're given. It's no surprise now, your heaven's what you're living in. (Thanks to luçil for these lyrics) From Letras Mania